Deny Thy Brother
by SpoonyLupin
Summary: Before Regulus sets out after Voldemort's Horcrux, he decides to try one last time to make peace with the brother he hasn't spoken to in years. Will Sirius hear him out, or will he continue to deny his brother?


**Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including, but not limited to, Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.**

**Deny Thy Brother**

_To the Dark Lord,  
I know I will be dead long before you read this,  
but I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret.  
I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can.  
I face death in the hope that when you meet your match,  
you will be mortal once more.  
R.A.B._

I swallowed hard, watching the ink dry on the tiny note I had scrawled. I was actually going to do it. Somehow, it hadn't seemed real to me before that. I had been planning this for months, but it wasn't until I wrote those words out on the piece of parchment, until I saw them staring back at me - stark black ink against the paleness of the paper - that it suddenly made me realize exactly what it was I was getting myself into.

It scared me. In fact, it scared me to death - a thought that awkwardly struck me as funny - but I knew I was in way too far to turn back now. I knew too much. It didn't matter one way or the other whether I wanted to do this anymore or not. Either way, I was going to die. Even if I chose not to go after the Horcrux, I was as good as dead anyway. As soon as the Dark Lord learned that I wanted out of the Death Eaters, he would most certainly order me killed. There was no way in hell that I was going to continue to serve him. Not now. Not after the things I'd seen, after the things he'd ordered me to do, after the things he'd ordered Kreacher to do. And if I was going to die, I was going to try my best to take a Horcrux out with me.

I wasn't sure how many there were, but from what I'd learned from Professor Slughorn, the Dark Lord very well might have made six of them. Perhaps even seven. The Dark Lord had been particularly interested in that number, and while I was hoping he would have stopped at six with the seventh part of his soul in his body, I decided it was better to err on the side of caution. He might have decided on seven Horcruxes, not just seven pieces of his soul. That was a hell of a lot, and the one I was intent on destroying would barely even make a dent, but it would help. However little, it would help.

If only five or six other people figured out his secret and went after a Horcrux, then he would be mortal again. He could be killed. A mortal Dark Lord seemed so impossible at this point, so downright ridiculous, but it could happen. For all I knew, someone might have already destroyed a couple. I couldn't be the only one. Could I?

I shook my head, deciding that I was getting way too far ahead of myself. It didn't really matter right now how many Horcruxes there were, or how many remained to be destroyed. All that mattered was that I was going to try my hardest to take this one out. The state of the other Horcruxes was invalid.

I carefully folded up the note I had written, taking the time to make each of the creases nice and even. I didn't even know why I was bothering. Perhaps it was the thought of the Dark Lord eventually finding this, of discovering that one of his Horcruxes had indeed been destroyed. It made me want to giggle for some insane reason to think of him finding a very neat note informing him of this.

Once the note was folded into a little square, I turned my attention to the replacement Horcrux. It was a large and rather ugly gold locket. I had bought it for a rather large sum of money at a fancy jewelry store, and I had used magic to alter it slightly. All I had to go on was what Kreacher remembered about the real Horcrux from his journey to the cave with the Dark Lord, and even then, Kreacher hadn't gotten a very good look at it. He was just a lowly house-elf, after all; the Dark Lord would never let him touch something so important as a piece of his soul. But I thought it definitely looked like something that he would use; it was overgrown and gaudy, just like the Dark Lord himself.

I grabbed up the locket and opened it, gently placing the note inside it. I closed the locket again with a soft _click_, then grabbed up my wand from the desk. The locket would be laying inside a basin full of an obviously very dangerous potion for quite some time, and I wanted to make sure that my note would remain intact if the Dark Lord ever discovered it. I quickly muttered a waterproofing spell, using my wand to direct it around the edges of the locket.

Replacing my wand in my pocket, I held the replacement Horcrux up by its chain, letting it swing back and forth lazily in the air. I was quite proud of my work, but then my eyes fell upon something that completely shot that feeling all to hell. On my desk was an ornate silver picture frame which was embellished with tiny emeralds around the edges. That, however, wasn't what had upset me. It was what was inside the picture frame that had made the feeling of pride so fleeting.

The picture was one of Sirius and me from our childhood. Before we had become enemies. It had been taken on my eleventh birthday, the day I had gotten my acceptance letter for Hogwarts. I was grinning, simultaneously looking between the letter in my hands and then up at the camera, a mixture of happiness and disbelief etched in my features. Thirteen-year-old Sirius had his arm slung around my shoulders, and he was positively beaming at the camera. He had been so proud of me back then. Proud that I'd be joining him at Hogwarts, and proud that I might be following in his footsteps. However, that dream had been shattered when it became apparent that it wasn't his footsteps I'd be following in, but those of the majority of the Black family.

Once I had been sorted into Slytherin, once I began making friends with the children of Death Eaters, my relationship with Sirius had taken a sharp detour. Given, our relationship had never been a great one to begin with. Even at an early age, we differed in our opinions of our parents. Sirius was a bit of a rebel and seemed determined to do the complete opposite of everything they wanted. He defied them regularly and got into trouble a lot. He often got into arguments with them about their beliefs, telling them they were wrong, and that he wouldn't carry on their ridiculous pureblood beliefs.

Sirius was what my parents called the "white sheep" of the family, something that I wasn't supposed to be. Truthfully, it wasn't something I even _wanted_ to be. Sirius had eventually been disowned, and my parents never missed a chance to tell me what a disappointment, what an embarrassment he was. I, on the other hand wanted to make my parents proud, and I didn't necessarily disagree with them about things. They were my parents after all. Aren't your parents supposed teach you right from wrong? Why would they be pushing their pureblood ways on us if they were wrong? It didn't occur to me until I was much older just how wrong they were. Just how fallible parents could be.

Sirius and I fought all the time when we were little. It wasn't even over silly, insignificant things either like I imagined most siblings would fight over. We always butted heads over our parents - Sirius screaming till the hippogriffs came home about how wrong and evil they were, and how deluded I was to believe them. And I'd defend them every which way till Thursday. How dare he call our parents evil? But we'd eventually make up. It was almost like our disagreements often became forgotten in the light of some game or toy we'd discover, or even my letter from Hogwarts. We'd act like the best of friends for a while, but then we'd always come back to that same sore spot - our parents.

That all changed once I was sorted, once it became apparent that I was more like my parents than my brother. Sirius was so disappointed that I hadn't joined him in Gryffindor, and our frequent arguments came to an abrupt end. It seemed like being sorted into the "bad" house had set my path, and rather than continuing to try and change my mind, Sirius simply gave up, and we stopped talking after a while. It was hard to keep in contact at school when we were in different houses anyway, but neither one of us tried very hard. When I came home from school for my first summer holiday, the year of not talking to him had taken its toll. Things had changed so drastically between Sirius and I that we were like strangers. As far as we were concerned, the other one didn't even exist. We weren't family any longer. We were simply people who happened to live in the same house.

My parents didn't care. In fact, I'd venture to guess that they were even happy with the way things had gone. One son had been a disappointment, but at least they both wouldn't be. Sirius was very outspoken about his beliefs, but as long as I wasn't even talking to him, my parents wouldn't have to worry about him swaying me. Besides, my parents barely even acknowledged him (except for when they happened to get into a heated debate) so why should I be expected to?

I didn't know why I kept the picture. My parents weren't very fond of it claiming such a prominent position in my room, and they often encouraged me to get rid of it, especially after Sirius had been disowned. Out of sight, out of mind. But I couldn't bear to part with it for some inexplicable reason - because it was a reminder of when things had been a little bit simpler, I supposed. Before my path had been chosen, and before I became estranged from my brother completely. I didn't like not talking to him. He was my brother, and I loved him. In spite of our fights, we had been close when we were younger and we did have fun together. A Gryffindor and a Slytherin just didn't fit together very well, that was all, and I longed for those days before Hogwarts. I had enjoyed school, but I had enjoyed my childhood with my brother more. Enjoyed those days before the Sorting Hat had chosen to pit us against one another.

It wasn't until I was older, until I had already been in the Dark Lord's service for nearly a year that things began to change. My first inkling that I'd chosen the wrong path was when I'd "loaned" Kreacher to the Dark Lord. The house-elf came back in such a state, I was almost certain he was going to die, and I learned that the Dark Lord had left him to do exactly that. I knew the Dark Lord didn't like house-elves, but I didn't think he'd treat them in such a fashion. After all, my parents didn't think very highly of house-elves either, but they weren't cruel to them, and nor was I. It made my blood boil to know that the Dark Lord wouldn't have cared if Kreacher had lived or died. He was _my_ house-elf, and other than my parents, he was the only other company I had when I was home for the summer holidays. How dare the Dark Lord treat him so carelessly when I had done him a favor in the first place?

I felt absolutely horrible for basically sending Kreacher to his death. It had never occurred to me that that was what the Dark Lord had intended. If it had, I would have kept Kreacher far away from him. If I had let Kreacher die, my parents probably would have in turn killed me for losing them their servant, whether it was done in service to the Dark Lord or not. That was when I knew that perhaps the Dark Lord wasn't all he was made out to be. That was when I knew that the Dark Lord didn't care about anyone or anything but himself, and I began to question if that was really the kind of man I wanted to be in service to.

Once I became of age and graduated from Hogwarts, the Dark Lord began sending me on missions with the rest of the Death Eaters. It was then that I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that I had made the wrong choice. That I had chosen to serve the wrong man, because I wasn't at all prepared for the things he was asking me to do - expecting me to do. I'd wanted nothing more than to join the Dark Lord from the moment I was old enough to understand what was happening, to understand that my parents would have considered it the highest honor to bear his mark. And once I was accepted into his ranks, I wanted nothing more than to quit.

My parents didn't know what really went on in the Dark Lord's circle. It was easy for them to say that the Dark Lord had the right idea about everything, all the while they were sitting in their nice and comfortable home, oblivious to what he was really up to. That was the easy way out - to take the Dark Lord's word for it, to turn a blind eye to everything and let him carry on with his business. To tell yourself that he was only doing it to improve the lives of wizards. I thought so, too, once upon a time.

There was nothing wrong with that, was there? With wanting to bring the wizards out of hiding and having them rule over society. Magic was might, after all, and once the Muggles learned what we were about and what we could do for them, they'd be more than open to it. They'd accept that we could improve the lives of everyone, and who better than the purebloods to do just that?

But that wasn't what Voldemort wanted at all. As my time with the Death Eaters grew, I saw just what the Dark Lord had had in mind all along - killing everyone and everything that got in his way, or that disagreed with him, or that didn't fit his perfect image of what a wizarding society should be like. Of course purebloods were better, but why did that mean killing everyone who wasn't? Why did that mean that _I_ had to become a murderer just because the Dark Lord was too busy playing with his Horcruxes to do all of his dirty work himself?

I was still young, so the Dark Lord could be forgiving to a degree. While I was expected to join the Death Eaters on their missions, it was okay if I wasn't jumping at the chance to get blood on my hands just yet. That would come in time, they said - the realization that exterminating anyone that wasn't pureblood was the best and quickest way to get to that utopia that the Dark Lord wanted so badly. Once I'd been a Death Eater for a few years, however, I would be expected to do exactly that whether I wanted to or not. What any of his followers wanted didn't matter. Nothing did, except that we unfailingly carried out his orders, whatever they might be.

That time was coming dangerously close. Soon, I wouldn't be a rookie any longer, and I'd be required to carry out full Death Eater orders. I'd quickly come to learn what would happen if I didn't. The Dark Lord didn't tolerate the word "no" from any of his followers. Nor did he tolerate any of us quitting if we decided that it was too much for us. That wasn't exactly the leader I had been expecting to follow when I'd first joined up - someone who didn't even listen or care to what his disciples wanted. Those things just weren't covered in the manual. You only learned those things after the fact, and by then, it was too late.

Once Kreacher returned from his mission with the Dark Lord, and once he was calm enough to tell me what had happened, it scared me. The Dark Lord had gone to great lengths to protect a _locket_ of all things. If I'd learned anything in my time with the Dark Lord, it was that he didn't love or care about anything - except for gaining power or getting rid of anyone who didn't like it - so I knew it went much deeper than that. But why? What importance could a locket possibly hold to justify being placed under such protection?

I knew I had to find out. I felt almost driven to do so, but I was also impossibly stuck. I could go through the books on Dark Magic in our house's library all I wanted, but I didn't even have any clue as to where to begin; I could be looking forever, just hoping to stumble upon something that resembled the type of magic Kreacher had described. No, I needed someone who was much more experienced with magic than I was, someone who could at least help point me in the right direction.

There was only one place I felt I could go. It had to be someone completely removed from the Death Eaters, because if it occurred to anyone that I was poking around in the Dark Lord's private affairs, I'd be as good as dead. That certainly narrowed down my choices. It wasn't any secret that I had joined the Death Eaters, and anyone _not_ involved with them didn't want anything more to do with me. My thoughts turned to the only person who was knowledgeable enough and who just might hear me out - Professor Slughorn.

As it turned out, Slughorn didn't share my former beliefs in the Dark Lord. Not at all. I'd known that before I went to see him, but I decided to try my hardest to explain my change of heart to him. I'd always been a favorite of his, so maybe I could regain his trust. Maybe he'd be willing to give me a chance when I knew no one else would. I didn't have anything to lose.

It wasn't easy. Professor Slughorn had seemed awfully paranoid that I was going to take anything he told me and use it for my own personal gain. I told him that I was past all that, and that I knew I didn't have very long left. I could only hide my change of allegiance from the Dark Lord for so long, but if I could perhaps learn what he was up to on my way down, perhaps it would somehow make up for my grave mistakes in some small way.

Slughorn still didn't seem convinced, and I thought he might even throw me out eventually, so I didn't waste any time in reiterating Kreacher's tale to him. At first, he didn't even seem to be listening. He stood with his back to me, apparently much more interested in the items on his desk. But once I got to the part about the locket, that was when Professor Slughorn craned his neck and looked back at me over his shoulder. With each word I spoke, I noticed that his expression was changing - first from being dismissive, to interested, to afraid, and then finally to absolute horror.

I finished Kreacher's story, my chest heaving with the possibility of getting somewhere. At the little crack that had started to form in Slughorn's decisiveness to not tell me anything.

"Please, sir," I pleaded. I took a few steps closer to him, almost meaning to place a hand on his arm, but then I thought better of it. I started wringing my hands instead. "I don't know what good it'll do, but if you know anything…" I let out an embarrassed breath and lowered my head. "It's a bit late for all of this, I'm well aware." I steeled myself and looked back up at him, determined to see this through. "But I have to do something. If the Dark Lord has a weakness…" I broke off, frowning in thought. "And I feel certain this has got to be it. House-elves are like vermin to him. Why in the world would he require one to do _anything_ when he has more than a few other options at his disposal?" Pausing, I took a deep breath before adding, "And then I realized - that's exactly why he wanted a house-elf. Because they're possibly the lowest form of life to him. A house-elf would stand the least chance of making it out alive and taking the knowledge of his secret with them. Or so he thought. His fault that he underestimated house-elf magic. But he's hiding something very important. That's the only reason I can think of for him to associate with something so beneath him."

Professor Slughorn's eyes were wide and round. He looked almost like a little child who had been caught with his hand in the biscuit jar. A moment later, he returned his gaze to his desk before reaching up to cover his face with his hand. "He is hiding something," he said, his voice so muffled by his hand that I only barely heard him. "And it's my fault he even learned about it at all."

Silence fell, and I took a few more steps forward. I leaned over, trying to meet his gaze. "Sir…I can't possibly think any of less of you than I already think of myself, so if that's what you're worried about…don't be. It can't be any worse than joining up with the Death Eaters without even knowing…" I broke off and then laughed humorlessly. "No. It can't be any worse than joining up with the Death Eaters, end of story."

Slughorn suddenly let go of the edge of his desk and turned to face me. He reached out, gripping one of my shoulders tightly with one pudgy hand. When he spoke again, his voice had taken on an urgent tone. "Swear to me this isn't for you! That whatever I tell you isn't for your own personal gain! That you won't try and duplicate what he's doing!"

I simply closed my eyes in defeat, shaking my head. "No, sir. Whatever it is he's doing, it isn't right. I don't need the details to know that, and I have no desire to follow in his footsteps." I opened my eyes before going on. "I just want to try and set things right before he figures out what it is I'm doing. Before he realizes that I know too much."

Slughorn took a deep breath, letting it out audibly. He released my shoulder, turning to pace to the other end of his small office. When he faced me again, he swallowed and said quietly, "It's called a Horcrux."

That was all I needed.

I squeezed the fake Horcrux in my palm, my eyes going to the portrait of my brother once again. I knew I couldn't carry out my plan unless he knew. Unless he was aware of the fact that I wanted to quit the Death Eaters. That was perhaps my only other regret - that he would forever be disappointed in me - and I wanted to put it right. I didn't know if he would hear me out, but I knew that I had to try.

I stood up from my desk, shoving the locket into my pocket lest I sent my poor house-elf into a frenzy with the sight of it. "Kreacher!"

With a loud _crack_, Kreacher appeared before me, bending over till his nose almost touched the floor of my bedroom. "Master Regulus called?"

"Yes," I said, and then I paused for a long time. "I need you to do something for me."

Kreacher peeked up at me, his eyes growing even rounded than they already were. His bottom lip began to tremble.

"It's not like last time," I said immediately. "I promise. It's _nothing_ like that. I wouldn't do that to you again. It still might sound a little crazy, but it's important."

Kreacher straightened up, looking positively excited at the prospect of an assignment that wouldn't result in that vile potion being poured down his throat. "Whatever it is, Kreacher can do it!"

I bit my bottom lip. "I need you to find out where Sirius is living."

"Of course, sir," Kreacher croaked. "Whatever Master Regulus wishes, but…after the way he's disgraced Master Regulus's family? After the way he's shamed my Mistress?" Kreacher's eyes welled up with tears, and he buried his head in his hands, beginning to sob. "My poor Mistress! Still so distraught and heartbroken!"

I quickly sunk to my knees in front of the house-elf, gently pulling his hands away from his face. "Yes," I repeated. "Please. I can't explain why, but I really do need to talk to him."

Wiping at his still leaking eyes, Kreacher nodded his head furiously. "Of course, Master Regulus." He took a moment to blow his nose on the filthy rag he wore before disappearing with another popping sound.

Straightening up, I slowly walked over to my bed, feeling a bit sullen. It had suddenly seem to hit me that I might never sleep in this room again. That I'd never curl up under the soft sheets, that I'd never open my eyes to the deep green curtains around my bed. Not if everything went according to plan today. I gripped one of the bedposts tightly in one hand and leaned against it, my own eyes releasing a few tears. I wiped them away quickly, because I didn't have time for that. I knew what I had to do, and I wasn't going to waste one more moment pretending to be in the service of the Dark Lord when that couldn't be further from the truth.

Through my tears, I glanced up at the newspaper clippings that I still had taped to the wall above my bed. My stomach curled up into a tight knot at the sight of them. What a fool I'd been back then, going through the _Daily Prophet_, hungrily searching for any mention of the man I dreamed of one day serving. I wanted nothing more than to tear those damn clippings down, or to possibly set fire to them with a flick of my wand, but I knew I couldn't. The fewer people that knew about my state of mind before my demise, the better. So I'd leave them there, a testament to what everyone assumed I still believed.

A little while later, Kreacher reappeared with another exploding sound. "Master Regulus," he said, bowing low again. When he straightened up, he bounded around the corner of the bed so that he could see me better. "I found Master Sirius, sir. He's living in a flat with that werewolf scum from school."

I frowned. "Remus Lupin?"

"Yes, sir, that's him."

I scratched my head in thought, but I didn't know why that seemed so peculiar to me. Remus and my brother had been close friends at school, so I supposed it wasn't out of the ordinary that they might share a place together, but it just didn't seem likely. Given, I didn't know my brother that well at all anymore, but I imagined he'd be a difficult person to live with. I'd always known him to be loud and inconsiderate of the other people living in our home, plus he was the kind of person to bring a different girl home every night. Not exactly the kind of place where you want your roommate hanging around all the time, and it wasn't like my brother needed to split the rent with anyone. I honestly wasn't sure how on earth Remus would ever put up with him. But who knew? Maybe he'd just changed a lot in the time since we had become estranged.

I shook my head in an effort to push my thoughts away. This wasn't the time nor the place to be wondering about such things, nor was it any of my business. "Where, Kreacher?" I asked. "I need the address."

* * *

As I raised my hand to knock, my heart began to beat erratically. I hadn't seen my brother for more than two years, and that had only been in passing at school. More over, I hadn't talked to him since I was fourteen, just before he ran away from home. Even then, it was barely two words to each other. I hadn't had what I would call a real conversation with him since I was eleven, so I knew this was going to be awkward. If I even saw him, that was.

Remus had answered the door, and he stood there blinking at me. "Regulus," he finally said after a while, sounding very surprised.

"Er…hi," I stammered, trying to sound as friendly as possible. Just like I had become with my brother, Remus and I were virtual strangers. We had certainly never been close, and I only knew him as one of Sirius's friends. Actually, I had come to think of all the Marauders as replacement brothers for me, substitutes for the void I had left by being sorting into Slytherin. I'd never had anything against Remus, not like many of my fellow Slytherins had, but I'd never told them to stop either when they got to teasing him. I could only imagine what Remus thought of me as a result, or what must have been going through his mind to see me of all people turn up on their doorstep, so I decided to cut right to the chase. "My brother wouldn't happen to be home, would he?"

Remus didn't respond right away. He seemed entirely confused by this recent turn of events. "Yes…he's here." He opened and closed his mouth several times, as if he wanted to say more, but his brain wasn't exactly cooperating.

"You don't have to invite me in," I said immediately. "I can wait out here."

Remus nodded absentmindedly, like he might have forgotten what it was he was doing. "Just a minute," he said, just before turning around and closing the door behind him. If I wasn't mistaken, I thought I heard the sound of locks clicking into place. Not that I blamed him; I was technically still a Death Eater, after all.

A moment later, the door reopened to reveal my very livid-looking brother. His blue eyes were wide, and he pushed his long black hair away from his face so he could get a better look. He stared at me, his eyes moving up and down over me like he couldn't believe what he was seeing. "What the hell are you doing here?" he demanded. "How did you find out where I live?"

I wasn't sure which question to respond to first, so I decided on the easier of the two. "Kreacher."

"Blasted house-elf," Sirius snarled. "What do you want? I already figured out you're not here to attack us, otherwise you would have done so the moment Remus opened the door. If it's to get us to join up with the Death Eaters-" he paused and laughed cruelly, "-you can forget it, because neither one of us is interested. You can run back to _Voldemort_ like the little lap dog that you are and tell him you failed in your recruitment drive."

"That's not what I want," I said firmly. "And this isn't what you think. I'm not-" I sighed in exasperation, wondering if Sirius would even hear me out before he slammed the door in my face. "I'm not here on Death Eater business."

Sirius snorted and rolled his eyes. "Now why do I find that hard to believe? Your life has been nothing _but_ Death Eater business since you were old enough to understand it!"

"I won't deny it," I said, deliberately dropping my voice. If we both started screaming at each other, I knew that this wouldn't go anywhere good, so I was trying my best to remain calm. "But I'm here to tell you I was wrong."

Sirius's expression was caught somewhere between anger and disbelief. For a very uncertain moment, I thought he was going to turn his back on me for the very last time, but for some reason unbeknownst to me, he stood rooted to his spot. When the shock of my words passed, Sirius grabbed my left arm around the wrist, forcefully pushing my sleeve down. He bent my arm at the elbow, shoving the Dark Mark that was forever burned into my skin in my face. "A little late for that now, isn't it?" he growled.

My first thought was to pull my arm out of his grip and shove him away, but I remained still. I was determined to make this go differently than our last few encounters. Instead, I turned my head away, unable to face Voldemort's mark any longer. The one I had willingly taken, but didn't want any longer. The one that I almost wanted to tear the skin from my arm in order to get rid of now. I gritted my teeth, my face burning red in embarrassment. "Yes," I whispered. "It's too late for a lot of things. I'm well aware of that. But I had this crazy idea that it _wouldn't_ be too late for us. That I might be able to come here and we could make peace."

Sirius's grip on my arm loosened, letting my hand fall back to my side. "What do you want me to say, Regulus? That it's okay that you joined the Death Eaters? That it's okay you're working for the very man I've sworn to try and stop?"

"No," I replied, my eyes meeting his once more. "That's not what I want you to say at all, because it _isn't_ okay that I joined. No one is more aware of that now than I am."

"So what are you saying? That you made a mistake?" Sirius's tone was doubtful, almost like it was bordering on a laugh.

"That's exactly what I'm saying," I replied. "I was stupid. I know that now. I just didn't…I didn't know exactly what he was willing to do to get power. I didn't know what he expected of me. I didn't know how little he cared about everyone but himself. I…didn't know." I felt tears prickling at my eyes again, and I drew a deep and calming breath, trying my best to push the sensation away. "Anyone with half a brain would find those things out _before_ they took this," I said, pressing my right palm over the Dark Mark. "I thought he wanted to better the world. Not lead it into darkness." A single tear slipped over my bottom eyelid and spilled down my cheek.

"You were misled," Sirius commented, the most understanding thing he had said to me in years.

"I know that now." I reached up, swiping away the tear that was still clinging to my chin. "That's why I'm getting out."

Sirius scoffed, but his voice was softer now. "Don't be absurd. You don't just _quit_. Voldemort expects - Voldemort _demands_ a lifetime of service, and he's willing to kill if he doesn't get it."

I stared down at the toe of my shoe miserably. "I know that now, too." I heard Sirius stumbling over his words, trying desperately to form them into some semblance of coherent thoughts, so I put him out of his misery. I looked up at him again and added, "If I have die to get out, then so be it. I won't continue to serve him any longer."

Sirius's mouth was hanging open, his eyes almost seeming unfocused for a moment. "So what you going to do? Hand in your resignation?"

I grimaced at his joking tone; it was like a punch in the stomach just when thought I was getting somewhere with him. Or perhaps he was simply making light of a situation to make it a little bit easier. He did that sometimes. We hadn't spoken in ages, but I remembered that much. "Not quite." My thoughts went to the fake Horcrux, and I shoved my hand in my pocket, tightening my fingers around the locket protectively. "Or maybe I am. Perhaps you could call it that, yes."

Sirius stared at me. "I don't understand."

I shook my head, quickly pulling my hand out of my pocket like I had been caught doing something dirty. "And you don't need to. It's not important. I just wanted you to know that I am quitting. If something happens to me…that's why. I'm not sure what-" I hesitated for a very long time. I had never used his name before, but perhaps it was the best way of getting my point across. Besides, it was way past the time to be afraid of him. "-Voldemort would have everyone believe on the matter. Whether he'd want to twist it around into some fantastical story or not, I don't know. Whatever casts him in the best possible light, I'm sure, but I'm telling you the truth."

Sirius's eyes were wandering around the front stoop of his flat, apparently in an effort to avoid my gaze. I saw him swallowing before he asked, "Why should I believe you?"

"I know you don't have a reason to. I haven't given you a reason to believe in me for a very long time, but…" I opened my hands and raised them palms-up into the air in front of him. "Why else would I come here and tell you this? To lull you into a false sense of security, so I can ambush you or something? Like you said, if I'd wanted to attack you, I would have done so already. I wouldn't waste time standing here, making up some ridiculous lie and expecting you to believe it." I lowered my hands, giving him the most pleading expression that I could. "Everything I'm telling you is the truth, Sirius. I know my word doesn't mean much to you anymore, nor should it, but…I'm not the same person you knew all those years ago. I'm not some arrogant little berk anymore that thinks serving Voldemort is all about fun, and games, and glory. I realized very quickly that it wasn't, and…I grew up. Being a Death Eater causes you to do that, I found. It forces you to really take notice of what he's doing, of the way he wants things to be, and it isn't about bettering the rest of the world. It's about bettering _himself_. That's all."

Sirius finally met my gaze again, his eyes searching my own, as if for answers. "You're really quitting?"

I let out a heavy breath and closed my eyes briefly before nodding. "I really am. I don't know if you'll even believe it, but I came here to tell you that because…it occurred to me today just how hard it was for me to disappoint you. You're my big brother. Whether or not we've ever seen eye to eye, I've always looked up to you. I remember how proud you were of me the day I got my letter. And then that basically turned out to be the beginning of the end for us." I hung my head, my eyes burning again. "When I realized that you were right all along - about everything - you had every reason to be disappointed in me."

Things for quiet for a while, but then Sirius spoke up again. "I wasn't disappointed in you. Myself, maybe, for not doing a better job of being a big brother. Maybe Mum and Dad, too, for forcing their own beliefs on us. For making us think this was the only way to make them happy. You just wanted to make them proud, and to them, this was the best way of doing so. And you had your own reasons for joining. They just weren't what you expected."

"No, they weren't," I sighed. "Not at all. But Sirius? You were a great a big brother. You tried as hard as you could to talk me out of it. It's not your fault I'm as stubborn as a hippogriff. That I was determined as all hell to make my own mistakes before I found out that's exactly what they were." My lips had begun to quiver, so I pressed them together in an effort to stop it. "I'm sorry I didn't listen to you. Things would be so different for us now if I had."

"Regulus…" Sirius seemed unsure of what to do for a very long time, but in the end, he closed the distance between us. He wrapped his arms around my shoulders lightly, pulling me into a loose embrace. "We all make mistakes. I've made plenty of them myself. Just ask Moony. But as long as you realize that now…it makes all the difference."

I didn't know how receptive Sirius would be to it, but I clung to him. I entwined my fingers into the fabric of his robes, squeezing so tightly I was sure my knuckles were turning white. I buried my face into his shoulder, and it hadn't struck me until just then exactly how long it had been since I'd touched anyone so closely. My parents and the rest of my family weren't very physical; the most I'd ever gotten from them was a pat on the back or the head. My friends at school were all Slytherins, children of Death Eaters, and they'd rather be caught dead than hugging anyone. The only person I'd ever hugged in my life was Sirius, and of course, it had been years since we'd been close enough to do that. I didn't know until then exactly how much I'd missed it.

"I'm sorry," I said again. "I always thought you were trying to bring me down with you. That if you couldn't be Mum and Dad's golden boy, then I shouldn't be either. Because you were jealous of me or something." I laughed, but that sound quickly turned into a sob. "I don't know. I don't know what I thought. Certainly not that you were only looking out for me. Merlin, I was so deluded."

Sirius ran a hand up and down my back in an effort to comfort me. "You were misled by lies, Reg."

That did nothing to calm me down, but Sirius's words were more than welcome; it had been so long since he had called me by my nickname. Perhaps even a decade or more. I wasn't sure. Time had faded the details, lost in the darkest recesses of my mind. What I hadn't forgotten, however, was how much I loved those three little letters - Reg. My brother had been the only one to ever call me that. The rest of my family had preferred my full name, because it was much more dignified, they said. I hadn't been close enough to anyone else for them to have a nickname for me. Only my brother, and it proved just how close we had been at one point. The only person I had ever really been close to.

"How come you weren't?" I asked dejectedly. "Misled by lies, I mean."

Sirius shook his head, but he didn't answer for the longest time. Finally, he just decided on, "Can't help it if I'm even more stubborn than you are."

I let out a soft breath of laughter. "Can you possibly forgive me for being such an arrogant little berk?"

"Of course," Sirius said without hesitation. "That's something we're both guilty of. Believe me. Just ask-"

"Moony," I finished for him, pulling away. "I know." We had only been talking for a little while, but at least it seemed like we were able to finish each other's sentences again. Another thing I had desperately missed. I tried my best to smile, wiping at my face and pushing away the hair that had fallen into my eyes. "And that's all I wanted. For you know that I wasn't entirely evil."

Sirius placed his hands on my shoulders, squeezing them tightly. "I never believed that. I knew you had your own reasons for doing what you did, and I knew they weren't the same as some of the other Death Eaters. I always knew you were different."

I smiled once more, but this time, it reached my eyes. "I think you have more faith in me than I do."

Sirius grinned. "You're my little brother. It's my job."

"I just need you to do one thing for me." Sirius raised an eyebrow a little suspiciously, so I quickly explained, "Tell only who you must about this. I'm afraid about Mum and Dad finding out. I know you won't talk to them, but it might possibly get back to them somehow. Even if you hate their guts by now, they're still our parents. It's not because I'm afraid of them being disappointed, either. I'm well past that point. I just don't want Voldemort to think they knew about this all along and go after them. Whatever they've done wrong, they don't deserve to pay for my mistakes."

Sirius seemed speechless for a moment. "So you come and tell me?" he teased.

"I know you can take care of yourself. Them…I'm not so sure. They're a bit helpless when it comes right down to it. They would have joined the Death Eaters themselves if they were the least bit capable." I was surprised at how easily those words rolled off my tongue. At how easy I was finding it to speak badly of them when I never would have done so before. A lot of things were becoming clear to me, it seemed.

"Just a bit helpless, yeah."

"You can tell the rest of the Marauders if you want," I went on. "They're capable, too, and I know how close you all are. But just keep it to them if at all possible. The fewer people that know, the better."

"I'll tell Moony," he replied. "I tell Moony everything, but that's about it." He frowned in thought. "I actually don't talk to James all that much anymore. He and Lily have been so busy getting things ready." After a moment, he clarified, "She's pregnant, you know."

It was my turn to blink. "Oh. I had no idea."

Sirius nodded. "Yeah, they just found out. And you're sworn to secrecy, too. Only a handful of people know so far, and they prefer to keep it that way for as long as possible. They don't want to do anything to make the baby a target as well."

"No, of course not. I won't tell anyone," I promised. I knew I wouldn't even get the chance to.

Sirius rolled his eyes. "And I sure as hell won't tell Peter. Merlin only knows what he's off doing half the time. We hardly ever see him anymore."

My heart began pounding anew, but now it was for any entirely different reason. Perhaps there was one other thing I could put right before I left. "Then you don't know?"

"Know what?" Sirius asked sharply.

"Peter's a Death Eater, Sirius."

Sirius gaped at me for a very long time. For a while, I was beginning to wonder if he had even heard me, because it took him a very long to be able to find his voice again. "_What_?" he asked incredulously. His breathing had grown loud and harsh.

"Yeah," I replied firmly. "In Voldemort's inner circle. Only one step below Lucius Malfoy, and two below our wonderful cousin."

Sirius looked like he was going to be sick. He took a few steps back from me, and then he wobbled on his feet. He had to grab onto the doorjamb to steady himself. I wrapped the fingers of one hand around his arm to make doubly sure that he was going to fall over. He had slapped a hand over his mouth and squeezed his eyes shut. A moment later, he pressed his hand over his eyes instead and muttered, "Oh my god. I thought…" He dropped his hand, clinging to the doorway with both hands now. "You're _certain_?"

I nodded grimly. "Even longer than I've been. He's been there at every single meeting."

"There's another difference between you and the rest of the Death Eaters," Sirius said. He still seemed a bit shaky, but at least he had found his voice again. "You did nothing to hide what you were really up to. Peter's been doing nothing _but_ sneaking around all this time."

I lowered my head in shame. "That's because I was proud of what I was doing."

"As I'm sure Peter is," Sirius said firmly. "It's probably in his job description that he keep things amicable for the purposes of spying on us. At least you left the rest of us out of it."

"If Voldemort had ordered me to," I protested, "I'm sorry to say I would have spied on you, too."

"Not anymore though," Sirius said, and I was sure I heard pride in his voice. A tone I hadn't heard from in almost eight years. He tilted his head back, grinning down his nose at me and that only cemented that certainty.

"No," I agreed decisively, "not anymore. I'd rather die than betray my friends."

It was amazing how clear things had become to me, how easily I could see what was truly important to me now. With everything that was wrong with the world, at least one thing was right again. My brother no longer hated me, and maybe, just maybe I had begun, in some small way, to make amends for the wrongs I had done.

_The end_


End file.
